Between Black and White
by ChocolateLover82
Summary: When he needs a model for his latest project, Carlisle finds her closer than he thought. Too close. CPOV, ExB, AH. *Written as an entry for the 'Beyond The Pale 2' Contest.*


**Beyond the Pale Contest**

**Title: **Between Black and White

**Pen Name: **ChocolateLover82

**Characters: **Carlisle

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does. Thanks to my beta Songster for her help with this.

**WARNING:** This O/S deals with subjects that are considered forbidden and socially unacceptable. Voyeurism being the main one. If this is not your thing, I'd suggest not to read.

**Image that Inspired You: **#1 (www . beyondthepalecontest . blogspot . com/2011/08/one . html)

**To see other entries in the Beyond the Pale Contest, please visit the C2 page:** www . fanfiction . net/community/Beyond_the_Pale_Contest_Entries/83159/

O-o-O~O-o-O~BB&W~O-o-O~O-o-O

I go through my portfolio trying to check which photographs would work for my next exhibition. With the idea I have in mind, I know none of these will work, yet I still feel the need to see if I'm right.

Too plain, too trite, too obvious.

After an hour of analyzing every single photo, I give up and push them aside violently on the table. I rest my elbows on the surface and sigh in exhaustion. I had been right, none of these photos will work with the concept in my mind. Some do get close to that, but none are really what I want to display this time.

Usually, this wouldn't be a problem; I either change the concept completely. I have too many ideas anyway, or call one of my models to do a shoot with the concept I really want.

Unfortunately, the first option is not possible this time. I'm supposed to have this exhibition ready by the end of the month and I have no time to put together a completely different set. I never should've agreed to do this stuff in the first place.

The second option is also not possible. My favorite model, the one I use in my most important works, is unavailable at the moment, having accepted a job in Rome earlier in the month.

Fucking great, Gianna couldn't have waited for another few weeks to leave.

I sigh, I'm being ridiculous. It's really not her fault that I keep changing my mind about the concept I want to show. She worked with me for the first one, but in the end, it didn't satisfy me.

The thing that nags me the most though, is that even if Gianna had been available for this, I don't think I really would've used her again. She truly is the best to work with; she knows my moods and I hardly have to tell her how to pose or what to do, she knows what I want from just simple instructions. Only this time, I feel like that might not be enough, that I need something more from her and unfortunately, it's something that she might not be able to deliver.

What am I going to do now? I have to find someone new and I don't have the time or the patience to look for a new model. I work a lot on instinct so it takes me some time to find the right person to work with.

I close my eyes and for a second a flash of brown eyes and pale skin crosses my mind. How pink her lips would look, all flushed and with a pout. How her body would move on the white comforter.

_She_, she would be perfect.

But that's not possible, is it? I could never ask and there truly is no reason for her to offer. She shouldn't offer.

I leave the things at my table and head to the kitchen. I need to think this through and being locked in my studio has obviously not helped.

When I get to the kitchen, I see my wife humming while she prepares dinner. I love to watch her like this, free and inhibited without her knowing I'm here. She says I have voyeuristic tendencies, and I tell her that she loves it when I watch her.

She truly does, and any of our nights together should prove it.

I always laugh when she says that; it's true, I like to watch. I like to see how people react and interact when they think no one is watching, how they behave when they think they are alone, even out in a public place.

The way a man smiles to another woman passing by while his wife nurses their baby right next to him. How a man runs his hand over the thigh of his associate's date under the table. Even a woman getting away with taking something extra without paying at a store.

All behaviors they do a poor job hiding, really. But it's not only those moments that I catch with my camera: it's also the way their eyes shift, the way their breaths falter and their bodies squirm on the spot. They live for the possibility of getting caught, of someone seeing them doing what they shouldn't.

I wonder what they might think if they catch me and my camera watching them. Would they simply walk away, high on the moment? Or would they confront me?

So yes, I might be a voyeur when I face the world. In a way, it's my job as well. To see it behind the lens of my camera, never interfering and trying to show what it is that _I_see. The people seeing my photographs could be as voyeuristic as I am, only they call it looking at art.

"Are you checking out my ass again?" Esme says without turning from the stove.

"Always, my dear. Always." I press myself to her back and encircle her waist, burying my face in her neck.

"I take it work at your studio didn't go so well?" She keeps stirring the sauce in front of her.

"You have no idea." I groan and she laughs when she feels the vibrations in her neck.

"I don't know what to do now. Gianna will not do this time and I have no time to find a new model for this."

"I'm sorry, honey, but I'm sure something will come up." She turns her head and kisses me. She then tries to retreat but I don't let her and with my left hand at the back of her head, I keep her from turning.

When I feel her moaning against my lips, I know she wants me as well. She likes it when I take control and as much as I like to be only an observer most of the time, I do like to participate when it comes to my wife.

I press my hips to her as well and let her know what we'll be doing in the next minutes.

"Carlisle," She says breathlessly and tries to push me away. "Carlisle, we need to stop."

"Why?" I move my lips to her neck once again, without letting go of her head.

"Because we have guests for dinner."

"Guests?" I groan, I really wanted to take my wife here in the kitchen.

"Yes, Edward and Bella are coming to dinner." She turns back to stirring.

I freeze.

Edward and Bella.

My son and his wife.

We haven't seen them in over a month while they traveled through Europe for work.

They both work at the MET and they went to view some pieces in several different museums there for possible acquisitions. Edward specializes in authenticity checking, so he needed to go there to see the pieces for himself; and Bella works in acquisitions so she makes all the deals for the museum.

With the mention of their names, the first thought I have is of those eyes that haunt me often, of that skin that I can't stop comparing to the models I use for my work.

With Bella here, I don't know how this night will be spent, if I'll be able to focus on her and my son as a couple, instead of the woman I want to use for my work, the woman that I've wanted to use as a model for years.

The woman that has no idea the effect she has on me.

I remember the first time my son brought her here three years ago. She was a little shy, but very funny and beautiful. Soon enough, we were all entranced by this woman. My wife loved her like a daughter, my son fell in love with her right on the spot. I've never seen him smile as much as he does when she's around and she smiles just as much as Edward. But me? ... well, my reaction was not so typical: I felt an instant pull towards her.

As much as I love my wife, there is something about Bella that I've always found appealing, interesting. It's more than just being attracted to a beautiful woman: I find her fascinating. She's easy to talk to, much wiser than girls her age and I find myself constantly looking at her, how her skin shines, her curves.

I knew back then that I wanted her to pose for me. I wanted to see more of her, but the fact that she was going to be a part of my family stopped that idea. The curiosity never died though, even when it was something that I both loathed and desired.

I started looking for her in other models I used at the time, but I've never been able to find one with the same eyes or the same glow. I'd often imagined that she was the one posing in front of me, moving, smiling. The fact that I mostly photograph nude models, makes me hate myself even more. How could I keep on with this _obsession_ after three years of knowing her?

Yet that's where I am, still wondering how she might look in front of my camera.

Photographing the human body made me develop a certain eye when it comes to its shapes and lines and since I often work with black and white photos, my eyes also wonder to the play of light and shadows. So when it comes to Bella, those are the things that I watch the most now: how she bends her legs or how she waves her hands, how her skin shines in the summer or her hair falls down her back.

Torture, absolute torture.

I love my wife and Bella loves Edward, and vice-versa, so I know nothing can ever happen between us. Yet, there is something that still pulls me to her, after all these years. Something that makes me want to watch her and uncover her secrets, secrets I'm sure my son has already discovered.

It scares me that I feel jealous that he gets to see them and not me, that I feel like I'd want to fight for her.

When it comes to her, I often feel like I'm caught in between two worlds: never in the one where I can have her and truly see what she can offer; and at the same time, I'm also not in a world where we have what we _should _have, a normal father-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship.

That makes every night they spend here a living hell.

"Are you ok, Carlisle? Sorry I didn't tell you before, but you were holed up in your studio when Edward called." She turns from the stove when she notices that I haven't said anything yet.

"Yeah, I'm ok. It's just been a long time since I've seen them, I was trying to remember how long." I hate the lies that I have to tell my wife when I space out like this about my daughter-in-law.

Esme has never said anything, but I think she knows something's there. I've caught her looking at me from across the room when we have family gatherings or at my exhibition openings.

Honestly, I wouldn't even know what to say to her if she ever calls me on it.

"Ok, dinner will be ready soon. Can you set the table, please?"

"Of course." I move to the dining room and start setting things. It's a welcome task at the moment, to just let my mind go on auto-pilot and to have time to re-group.

I wonder how they did in Europe. I saw a few photos Edward sent every week, they looked happy. I'm sure this night will be full of stories.

Just when I'm done here, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," I tell Esme.

When I open the door, two smiling faces are the first things I see.

"Dad!" Edward comes forward and gives me a big hug. I love his hugs, they always remind me of when he was a little boy. At first he only reached for my legs, then for my waist and now he's towering over me.

"Edward, son. Great seeing you." I move to let him in and turn to Bella.

"Bella," I say and we hug, not as big as Edward's, but no less important. This time, she's the one that feels small against me.

"Carlisle, nice seeing you again." She smiles sincerely at me, much like all the times that we've met. Why today should be any different?

We move to the kitchen, and after greeting Esme, we all sit there waiting for dinner to be ready. We always do this, spend time at the kitchen; we find it much more comfortable than sitting in the living room.

We talk for a little while, I try to avoid looking at Bella. When Esme hears that they'll be staying at a hotel for the next two weeks, because the renovation on their place it's not done yet, she offers them a place to stay at our house. They refused at first, but Esme can be very convincing and she loves the idea of having them closer for a few weeks.

I think I'll be spending more time at my studio then.

We move to the dining room where, just as I suspected, the kids tell us about their travels.

"Italy was amazing, Mom; we even learned a little Italian." He leans over to Bella's ear and whispers something that makes her laugh and blush.

I grip my napkin and I have to look away.

"Did you find what you were looking for there?" We ask them.

"Yeah, almost all the pieces. We're gonna have to go back to London next month to finalize a few things, but other than that, the trip was very successful." They both smile at each other and hold hands above the table.

My eyes fixate on their hands and how they would look as a black and white photograph. How the ring on her finger shines under the lights from the room. I'm often very torn when they're around: sometimes I feel like I can't even watch them together and how they touch and speak; and other times, it's like I can't take my eyes away from them.

We keep talking about their travels throughout Europe and Esme and I share stories from when we took a similar trip. Things have certainly changed in the last thirty years.

"So Dad, tell me. How is the new exhibition going? We got here just in time, right?" Edward asks when we're eating dessert.

I groan.

"That good, huh?"

"I have to find a new model for this new set of photographs; otherwise I might have to use an old set that I haven't shown yet, and that's nowhere near what I want to display." Edward grimaces when I say this; he knows how I am about my work and its quality. I hate to rush things and I hate having to show something I'm not entirely happy with.

"Wow, sorry, Dad. That really sucks." I sigh, nothing to do.

"Hey, baby, maybe you can be his model." He turns to Bella and her eyes widen for a second when he says that.

I stop my fork midway to my mouth as I look at them.

"What?" I ask, looking at the both of them.

"Well, Bella used to model for art classes back in college, she used to do some nudes as well."

"And that was the reason why you signed up to that class in the first place, wasn't it?" She pokes his side and he kisses her.

"Of course I did." He kisses her back softly.

I'm stunned by this revelation. Not only has Bella been a nude model, just as I need, but also the prospect that she could pose for me is both appealing and absolutely terrifying.

Would she want to do this, but also, would _I_able to do this as well? Am I able to spend a few hours taking pictures of my son's wife? Even if it's the woman that has been on my mind for three years?

I know to anyone else, an offer like this might sound odd or even highly inappropriate. The father-in-law taking photographs of his daughter-in-law, nude pictures at that. But Edward, and everyone here for that matter, knows that this is what I do, that this is the art I create. It's the reason why Edward brought the idea up.

I look at Esme to my left and she's gauging my reaction. She doesn't look very concerned, but there is something in her eyes. I'm not sure what it is. Worry?

"If you really need someone, Carlisle. I have no problem posing for you. Like Edward said, I used to do this." Bella shrugs. "I've seen your work, so I know the photos will be amazing."

So now it's my decision.

What do I want? To say no and always wonder how the photographs would've turned out? I already wonder how she'd look under my lens. Now having the offer right in front of me and rejecting it, could be truly unbearable.

But to say yes is also torture. Once I see her in the nude, the image will never leave my mind. I'll no longer wonder how a photo-shoot with her would be, I'd know. And could I also stand that this might be the only one?

Could I stand having this woman in front of my lens and then never having her again?

When I look at Edward and Bella with their hands, once again, tangled at the top of the table, I have my answer. That simple action and my mind is wandering to photos of those hands, of her. I know I'll take this opportunity with her.

I have to do this, I'm already going through the torture of not knowing.

"Okay then, can you stop by my studio this Saturday?"

O-o-O~O-o-O~BB&W~O-o-O~O-o-O

I'm arranging the studio and opening the shutters to let the light in. I like how it filters through the windows and how the room glows. It's one of the reasons I chose this studio in the first place.

It's only twenty minutes away from our house and I use it for all my photo sessions. It's on the second floor of this old building, down a quiet street. It's small, but serves its purpose. It has what used to be a living room, where I placed a couple of settees in different positions, near the window. Another room is a bedroom, where I put a bed for different photo-shoots or when I stay here really late. It has a small balcony that I also use for some outdoor shots.

The place also has a small bathroom and an empty kitchen, except for some bottles of alcohol for when I'm alone. Next to the bedroom there is a small room that used to be some sort of office, with two entrances: one leading to the living room and another one to the bedroom. I now use it as a dark room.

I've been nervous all week about this session. How it will play out and what new things will I learn from Bella? This will take our relationship to a different level, one we can't undo afterwards.

At noon, I hear the buzzer.

"Yes?"

"It's Bella."

"Come on up."

I hear her steps on the wooden stairs coming up to the second floor. The building is old and creaks at every turn, but it was the best I could do with the money I had and the specifications I wanted.

With every step she takes, it's like a clock ticking towards what almost feels like a death sentence or something greatly awaited. I'm battling between not opening the door to my studio or waiting for her at the threshold.

In the end, I open the double door when I hear her knocking.

"Hi." She says a little shyly and I have doubts about this for a second. She sounded and looked confident the other day, but maybe she doesn't want to go through with this anymore.

"Come on in." She enters and surveys the room. It's a little messy, with papers and photographs on different tables. I don't care about that mess, really, I've already arranged the sets I want to use the way I want them.

"Did you find the place ok? It's a little hidden in this street." I say, trying to calm her nerves. She looks nervous, taking in everything around her.

"Yeah, Edward told me how to get here. He wanted to drive me, but his friends invited him for a basketball game and they haven't seen him in a while. So..." She trails off.

"I understand. If you think Edward being here is better, maybe we can reschedule for another day."

"No, no. Don't worry, Carlisle. Like I've said, I've done this before, it's just-"

"I'm your husband's father." I finish.

"Yeah, exactly." I nod and she laughs and her nervousness is not so obvious now.

"Listen, let's just talk about what I want, then you can decide if this is what _you _want to do. That way you're not jumping into the dark."

She nods and after that, I show her the rest of the studio and where we'd be working. I also explain what it is that I want from her.

"This is more about a play of light and darkness and of movement. The photos will be on the settee and by the window. So I want you to move around them, I'll tell you when to stop, but it's more of you moving however you feel like moving so I can capture that with my camera. I'll put on some music if that helps you; it usually does for other models, so they don't feel weird moving just because."

I wait for her answer, she looks around and I can tell she's thinking about this, picturing what I just told her. I'm not sure what it is exactly that I want now… that she says yes and we can start working immediately while the sun is perfect for this? Or that she says no, and we can go back to the relationship we've had so far. As torturous as that has been for me.

"Ok, let's do this." She turns around and says determinedly.

"Ok then. We'll start at the settee right here by the window. You can undress behind that screen right there at the corner. There is a robe there you can use. I'll go get my cameras."

I push play on the playlist I usually use when I work like this and take my time with the two cameras I'll be using. One will be digital, and the other one, analog. I can take less photos with that one, but I take ones that I feel would look better in that medium. Those also go into a different collection.

I not only take my time to get the cameras just right, but to calm myself in this situation. This is actually happening: today I'll be working with the woman that has been on my mind for a long time.

"Ok, I'm ready." I turn around and Bella's there, standing in only the red silken robe, by the settee.

"Good." I clear my throat. "Ok, sit down there with the robe on, I want to test the lighting first."

She sits with her back to the window and the sun lights up her loose hair and her face. I give her a few instructions to move to the right or left and set things accordingly for the camera. Yes, this would work.

"Ok, let's start the session then... can you open your robe at the center and turn to your right?" I sound like an amateur like this. I need to get a grip and act like the professional photographer that I am. I've been waiting for this for too long.

Slowly she opens her robe and lets it open so still covers most of her breasts. I take some photos of that, the way her chest moves up and down when she breathes and how her neck looks when she turns her head.

"Don't be nervous, just let yourself go with the music." I tell her when I see her slight stiffness. I move around her, taking photos from different angles.

"Now, can you take off your robe completely?"

She stands up and lets the robe fall to the floor, she goes to pick it up but I stop her, it would work to have it laying like that on the floor. I even take a few photos of her trying to lift it.

She sits back and now I can see all of her, nothing hidden anymore. The light dances on her skin and she flushes slightly; I notice that it covers her neck and chest.

"Just keep moving with the music if you feel like it." I instruct.

I see her taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She sways a little and even mouths some of the lyrics. She then lays on her back, her hair displaying along the plush surface of the settee.

She's doing much better than I thought she would.

I take photos of her non-stop for the next hour. I can't believe this is happening, how much better than I imagined this is. Her skin is much more beautiful than I thought and the way the light hits it creates new shades as well.

I feel my body reacting to this, but I try to suppress it and hide it from her. For the first time, I feel like actually taking part in the photographs I'm taking. To run my hands on her skin, or move the hair from her back.

She moves her arms above her head, which makes her breasts lift. I take in the curve of them and the lines of her pink nipples. She moves her legs and bends them, sometimes her left one, others her right one. I see her pubic bone and I instruct her to touch her stomach.

It looks teasing when her hand is only inches from the area just a little below.

When she moves or stretches, I notice how the muscles under her skin move and sometimes I tell her to hold a certain straining position just to see how her body looks like that.

I tell her to lay on her side, facing me and now the photo shows all of her, her hair cascading to her front, the tips grazing her nipples. She smiles often and at times, I thinks she truly forgets that I'm here, around her.

She looks both sexy and innocent in some poses. More so when she lays on her stomach with her arms crossed in front of her, and she peeks at the camera from behind the curtain of her hair.

I truly can't get enough of her.

I take pictures of everything that catches my eye. It's not only her body, but her face as well, how she closes her eyes in certain poses or lets go to a particular song and lyrics.

Her body moves easily from position to position. The light changes from the outside, creating the perfect mix of light and darkness that I've been trying to find. Her hand resting on her chest, on her breast, or her legs, creates small shadows that I just have to catch with my lens.

I never stop taking photos unless she needs a break or I change cameras. It only lasts for a minute, but then we're back into our original state of mind.

I take a few of her standing by the large windows with her back to me, looking into the outside. This is a fairly private street and not many people walk by, so no one would be able to see her naked there.

She stretches like she's just waking up in the morning, her back arching, her ass sticking out slightly. The light from the outside shines all around her while her hair creates a shadow over her back.

I realize just then, that she's comfortable with me; she's comfortable with exposing herself to me, enough to move at her own pace, to pose any way she feels like. And much like when we started this session, I hardly have to tell her anything more; her instincts are perfect.

By the end of the session I can't believe how much better she actually is than what I expected and how my body feels alight just from standing a few feet away from her. She's so much more than I ever thought and I wonder if Edward sees this in her.

I grip the camera tightly once again. Of course he does.

"And we're done." I say, I'm almost panting with exertion, we worked straight for the last twenty minutes.

"Really?"

"Yes, these will be perfect, Bella. Thank you."

"You're welcome, I can't wait to see them myself." She even looks excited by the idea.

She moves to the screen and starts dressing again, but I'm already getting things ready to start developing, I can't wait to start working with these.

"Well, I'm glad I could help then. Edward will be thrilled to be able to buy some of them." She laughs while she buttons her dress.

"I'm sure." I laugh too. I'm certain Edward will be buying some of these.

My phone alerts me of a text and I see that Esme wants to have lunch. I sigh. I'm tired and at the same time I really want to start developing these photos, but I haven't seen much of my wife this week with work, on both our parts.

I reply that I'll see her soon. The developing will have to wait until tomorrow.

"Bella, thank you, really. What you did was amazing."

"Thanks, Carlisle, I just wanted to help. And now I'm gonna be a little famous."

"Well, I don't know about famous, but certainly a little known." We walk to the outside while I lock the studio.

"Do you need a ride?" I ask her, I can't leave her alone like this.

"No thanks. I'm taking a cab, I'm meeting Edward for lunch."

We say goodbye and I leave for my lunch with my wife. All the while, all I can think about is the curve of Bella's hips, or how her perky breasts looked when she arched her back.

I don't know what to think anymore. I knew it would be something that would change my view of her, but with the high of this still present, I feel elated that I decided to do this. She's perfect for this, much better than Gianna. That scares me though, could I work again with Gianna when the time presents itself? I feel myself wanting to work with Bella again and after today, she might have ruined all other models for me.

I also realize that I had been right all along, after today, I won't be able to get enough of her. The session was addictive and it makes me want to see other poses in different scenarios. Beds, outside, water.

Fuck.

In the back of my mind, I also realize that I can't work with her anymore. As much as I'd want to, this can't happen again. This blissful torture already left me wanting for more, God knows what would happen if she poses for me again.

I feel myself crossing a line that would be too dangerous and what it's worse is that I don't know if I'd want to stop.

O-o-O~O-o-O~BB&W~O-o-O~O-o-O

On Sunday morning, I get up early and head for my studio. I could barely sleep last night thinking about which photos I'll use.

I open the door and memories of yesterday invade me. How she moved on the settee by the window, how she hummed the songs playing in the background. The place is filled with memories of her. She completely changed it.

I'll need to use my computer to see the photos I took on my digital camera, but I feel myself more anxious to see the ones I took with my other camera, the ones that caught my eye in a different way. I take the film from yesterday and head to the dark room; I'll be there until they are all done.

Turning on the safelights, I start working. Soon, the first photos start appearing. They look better than I imagined. Perfect flow and contrasts and there are even some details that I hadn't noticed that were picked by the lens.

I'll do a blow-up of some of them.

I'm done with them when I hear some noise coming from the outer room. I stop everything and try to listen more intently.

Sure enough, there is noise outside of this room, it sounds like steps and voices and _laughter_?

I slowly approach the door leading to the bedroom, turning off the lights when I get there, and open it a few inches, leaving it ajar. Some light filters into the room, but not enough to let the people outside see me here.

"Are you sure your Dad won't come here today?"

"Yeah, he always has brunch on Sunday with a few of his artist friends. He won't come in here for a few hours."

It's Edward and Bella entering the bedroom, the room right next to where I'm standing. How did they get in here? I think back and I remember that there is a spare key at the house, for emergencies. And it seems they thought _this_ was an emergency.

I hear music and I see Edward unbuttoning his shirt while walking towards Bella from the stereo.

"Are you sure about this, baby?" Bella asks as she moves her hips to the music.

"Baby, I need you and staying at my parents' for the week hasn't been the best." He reaches her and places his hands on her hips.

"But our apartment will be ready soon."

"I know, but I _need_ you now and being at the house won't let you be..." He kisses her neck. "Loud."

Bella moans and throws her head back while grabbing Edwards shoulders. He holds her hips with his hands more tightly.

And of course I know what will happen next and I know I should make myself known to them, before it's too late to do so. They're going to start taking each other's clothes off any second now, Hell, Edward already started.

I _know_ these things, I _know_ what I should do, yet all I can think about is how they're acting while they're alone, how passionate they are about each other.

I find it fascinating to see them like this and once again my desire to see and not be seen kicks in.

Edward starts pulling the thin straps of Bella's dress down her shoulders, slowly while he kisses the exposed skin. She starts opening the rest of his buttons while her hands are trapped in between their bodies.

I close my eyes and look down.

This is it, this is the moment when I should stop myself and clear my throat, open the door to my dark room, _anything_. But when I lift my eyes and see her body's silhouette through her white dress backlit by the light from the balcony at the back of the room; images of yesterday dance in my head and I'm reminded of her body under similar circumstances and how much I've wanted to see more of her posing.

This may be my true last chance to see her like this and with that thought, I _know _I won't stop this.

Her dress falls to the floor and there she stands, in only her white panties and bra. They're both barefooted, and the contrast between her skin and her underwear is barely noticeable. Edward's shirt follows her dress, both items pooling at the floor beneath them.

My fingers itch to use my camera.

She fumbles with the belt of his pants while Edward kisses her fervently, his hands on her cheeks. They always touch, never allowing a single second to set them apart.

"I love you, baby." He moans against her lips.

"I love you too, Edward."

His pants fall to the floor and when he steps out of them, he leads Bella backwards to the bed. When the back of her legs hit it, she laughs and falls into it, a small bounce and a loud laugh.

"Beautiful." I see Edward mouth to her. The soft music surrounds the room and I think he's trying not to break their play by actually saying words.

With her finger, Bella calls for him to join her in bed, which he does while kissing his way up to her mouth. Legs, stomach, neck and finally her lips. All the while Bella's moans compete with the music and she slides her hands up and down his arms.

The way she arches her back when he reaches her neck is not the same as she did yesterday while standing by the window. This is more raw, she's not doing it to stretch her muscles, she's doing it out of need for him, a way to be in contact with him.

The bed is positioned sideways to the door I'm currently hiding behind and next to it, there's the balcony doors with the curtains open. I can truly see everything like this, how they move, how he touches her and how she responds to that touch.

I can't take it anymore; I have to record this on film.

Before convincing myself to the contrary, I turn slightly to my right, where I know one of my cameras lays. It's the analog, so the amount of pictures will be limited. It's also already loaded with a new film, I never leave them without one just in case I need them at a moment's notice.

The room is now surrounded by music and moans and grunts and the bed is filled with writhing and squeezing and bodies trying to get as close as possible.

I aim my camera and shoot at that image. The second I take the snapshot, adrenaline starts pumping within me. I want to see what else can they do, how else can they move, but most of all, what that would look like under my lens.

"Edward, please."

"God, baby. I love you." Edward sits up and runs his hands on her sides and breasts. Bella tries to get him to touch her more by lifting herself up and sitting on her knees in front of him.

His hands slowly make their way to her back, their stares never breaking, and he unclasps her bra. It falls down her arms and the second she's free of it, he's tossing it and putting his own hands on her breasts.

She moans and throws her head back.

I take another photo of the way her neck looks like and how her hair falls back down to the swell of her ass. This time there is a flush that starts covering more than her neck and chest. It spreads all over. Something I hadn't seen on Saturday.

There is so much more than what I saw yesterday, so much that needed to be unleashed and I realize that she never would've revealed this. This belongs to Edward alone.

Yet, I can't stop watching it.

They kiss and the moment gets more heated, I can see it in the way they keep rocking back and forth, trying to get to the other.

Bella lays back once again, arms above her head and feet running a path across Edward's stomach and chest. She's waiting for him to make the move. He laughs loudly and slowly slides her panties down to her ankles, tossing them aside.

She breathes heavily now, her chest rising and her nipples puckered. Nothing like the breasts I photographed yesterday.

While I take pics of her flushed skin, Edward removes his boxers and then lays on top of her. They're flush against each other, the image is of one body with limbs entwined.

I can't help myself and take a picture of that. You can almost feel the need rolling off their bodies and it permeates the space around them.

Like that, they move and she bends her legs at either side of him. I see him talking lowly to her, I can't hear it from here, but I can tell those are private words meant only for her. It's in the way he looks at her, and how she looks back at him.

I take a picture of their faces, I know the look won't translate when I develop it, but I have to take that moment.

Right now, seeing how much better she can be, how he's touching her and looking at her, makes me feeling like _I _want to be the one touching her, making her feel that good.

I feel so conflicted with this. I love my wife, but the raw need I feel when I see Bella and now witnessing her letting go, makes me want to throw everything to the wind and taste it, taste _her_.

He touches her all over, her sides and her breasts, her neck and her face. They don't only touch with their hands, but also with their mouths. It's always reverently, each caress a proof of how much he loves her. I've seen them touch like that sometimes and it floors me every time. It's incredible how everyone around them can _feel _how they love each other from simple touches.

Once again, I'm battling between staring at them or looking away.

He moves to his side, his back to me and starts caressing her chest. They whisper to each other and I hear them laugh. Even in this passionate moment when they're making love, they still find moments to make each other laugh and simply play.

Bella then moves him to his back and straddles him. Leaning forward, she kisses his lips and neck and chest, much like he did before to her. I can't see their faces, her hair a curtain that only envelops them. I take that snapshot, an outsider's view of their bubble.

Bella starts moving her hips back and forth and that movement, combined with the way her ass sticks out, makes me take another photo. The sun is shining brighter now and every time she moves her hips, a ray of light comes from the window and shines over the small of her back, overexposing the shot.

My body reacts to her moaning and her writhing and the need to touch myself increases, imagining that it's her touch that will alleviate the ache. I can't do it though, I can't give into this, but the more I watch them, the more I want to let go and enjoy this – her – for as long as it lasts.

The moaning and panting, combined with the music makes it hard to think straight. I feel my body completely overtaking my mind and whatever restraint I might have is slipping away as they rock in the bed.

I can't fight this. I can't fight this.

Hanging my head and simply giving up, I set the camera aside and slide one of my hands down inside my pants. I almost whimper when I feel how hard I am. I unbutton them and free myself. With my other hand, I support myself on the counter close to the door.

Soon, I'm stroking to the same rhythm as she moves back and forth and for a second I close my eyes, imagining it's her making me feel this good.

When she sits up, I can see the marks of Edward's hands on her hips, pink against milky white. Two colors that can often be found on her body, on her nipples, lips, chest. He runs his hands over her thighs while they seem to have a silent conversation.

He places his hands once again on her hips and she covers them with her own. She sits up, and after arranging a little, they are joined. They both arch their backs and moan, far louder than the music still playing in the background.

The symmetry of this movement makes the image that I saw earlier with only Bella arching her back, now shine for both of them: bright rays of sunshine filtering through the window shining in between their bodies.

Light, it beams from every pore of their bodies.

I stroke myself harder.

They start rocking and I see how their limbs try to reach for the other. Every muscle in their bodies is working hard to find a release in this moment, but they also move to simply be near the body in front of them.

Beads of sweat cover their bodies and I feel myself covered in it as well. I notice drops falling down Bella's back and how her muscles and bones there move. His hands move more strongly to bring her hips to him and I notice how his arms strain at the effort.

I thrust against my hand harder now, trying to reach a release that I know I have been waiting for three years to get.

Their bodies get more flushed and their movements more hurried. Arms moving, legs supporting, heads falling back and then going right back at staring each other.

The next second, Edward lifts her and lays her back on the bed, his body covering her. Now they are tangled and moving and moaning and sweating. Her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, thighs straining.

I keep looking at them though, wide eyed for what comes next, waiting for that final moment, that final moment where everything will fall into place, every touch, every word that has been uttered will make sense when they find that place they've been building towards. Much like I have been doing hidden in here.

I continue stroking myself faster and faster, gripping at the counter with my other hand. I feel myself panting louder and louder, but the music and their own noises drown mine. My body pulsates in anticipation of this and the tension in my stomach grows and grows.

"Fuck." My voice is a whisper and my tone strained, trying not to cry out.

When they become more vocal, I know the moment is approaching. And so is mine.

"God, I love you, Edward."

"I love you, baby."

A few seconds later, they get to that place and their bodies shudder and explode in shivers. Muscles tense and for a second they can't control their bodies. Their mouths open in a silent scream, or maybe it's the combination of the music and the pulsing sound in my ears that makes me not hear them.

I can't hold it anymore and after a few more strokes I come hard on my stomach, I have to close my eyes and I almost feel like falling to the floor from the force of it. My body feels all the tension leaving and years of simply watching her have come to this.

I slow down on stroking and take big breaths, trying to calm myself and control my shivers. Just coming back to reality.

When I look back into the room, they hold onto each other and the sweat and the light combine, creating a slight glisten on their skins. Bella's skin is even more beautiful with her blush covering her: a pink glow.

Bodies come back to reality and they laugh breathlessly.

"Now that's the girl I married." He kisses her softly.

"You think your Dad will know?"

"Not really, but we'll change the sheets before leaving though."

They get dressed slowly, not having a care in the world, while I slide down to the floor and sit by the door, absorbing what just happened. I hear them laugh and Bella squeals every once in a while.

I close my eyes and let those sounds fill me. They are happy, they are truly happy.

They leave the studio after arranging things in a way that says 'no one has been here' and I finally make my way out of the dark room and into the bathroom to clean myself up. Thank God I have clothes here.

When I come out, I look at everything around me and if I thought things with Bella were going to be different after yesterday, then today things have certainly changed, irrevocably so.

_They _are everywhere now.

I run my hand through my hair and go to the kitchen, I think I have some scotch in there. Once I find it, I take a big drink. Unfortunately, the burn in my throat doesn't help like other times.

I look around and I can't stay here at the moment, seeing all the places where I took pictures of her yesterday and the place where they made love earlier. So I go back to the dark room to put away the things I didn't have the time to do earlier. I'll continue my work another day.

When I get there, I see the camera I used earlier on the counter.

What do I do now with these? Do I develop them? Why did I even take them in the first place? These are my son and his wife, for fuck's sake!

I sigh and close my eyes. I remember how they looked at each other, how they spoke to one another, even when I was unable to hear the words. The moments were incredibly powerful and some of the photos will not be able to show that. This was a moment just for them, a moment I intruded on.

I feel sickened at my behavior, sickened that I wasn't strong enough to stop this from the start. I know I often watch the world from behind my camera, but his has clearly been too much.

What sickens me the most though, is that given the opportunity, I don't think I'd stop myself again. With these photos I've seen a Bella that has become an ideal. Not that she wasn't already, but from now on, every single model I use will fall short compared to her, in every photo I take, I'll look for her. I was right yesterday about this fact, but today... I certainly can't ever use her as a model again.

From now on, every project that I take will be nothing to the photos inside this camera in front of me. Nothing will be as incredible and perfect as the session in there. This surpasses all my exhibitions and nobody will ever see it.

I know I can never show them, no one can even know they exist in the first place.

For a second a thought crosses my mind. I could create an exhibition with a lot of them, since they often didn't show their faces, mostly their bodies. But of course, they'll know it's them and they'll know what kind of person I am, what I'm capable of

No, I can never show these.

But I think about how I felt while watching them. How hard I came after she came and how much I still wish it had been me to give her that pleasure. I've been wanting to see how a photo-shoot with her would be ever since meeting her, and now I know how great that can be. The thought of letting go of that and moving on with my life, leaving this behind, is actually more torturous than what I've felt for the last three years.

I run my hand over the camera, I consider what it holds and how this is the last time I'll ever see her like this. This flushed, this inhibited, this raw.

I close my eyes at the images and, once again, I sigh in resignation. I know I'll never be able to part from her, to part from what she inspires and from what I know she can do. These pictures right in front of me, are the only way I'll ever be able to have that, to have _her_.

I turn my head to my right, to the open door, and look into the bedroom once again. Everything looks normal: the bed made, the morning light washing the walls. But it really isn't.

I let out a final sigh and my body sags, I feel resignation setting in: I can't fight it anymore. I start setting things to begin a new process of developing photographs.

I reach for the door and slowly close it behind me, letting the darkness of the room envelop me. I feel like I don't need the light that fills the rest of the apartment anymore, for here, in the darkness of the room and with the camera in front of me, I finally have what I want.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading. Links and dates up on my profile.<br>**


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